


A Day in the Life of Dr. Gaster

by fellSans



Series: Tales of Dingsy [1]
Category: Undertale
Genre: Abstract mention of suicide, Abuse, Alcohol, Body Horror, Depression, Gaster being a lovey dork, Gaster doesn't do parties well, Hurt, Science, Stress, actual suicide, free form, poem
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-02-16
Updated: 2018-04-08
Packaged: 2018-09-24 21:11:13
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 13
Words: 9,901
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9787154
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fellSans/pseuds/fellSans
Summary: There are many tales to tell of the underground's royal scientist and father of the skelebros. Care to take a gaze into this beloved scientist's life? |I will be adding more tags and things as I add chapters to this. It is rated M for future violence. As much as there will be cutesy dorky and sciencey things, there will be dark topics such as abuse and suicide dealt with. I will put warnings for those chapters in the summary and notes so anyone who is sensitive to those topics or doesn't wish to read them can skip those chapters.|





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This takes place just after Asgore kills the first child and asks Gaster to find a way to extract the soul for use. I call my Gaster Dings and he was married to one of my personal characters Astoria.

            “You ask the impossible of me your Majesty! “

“Dr. Gaster... If anyone is capable of doing it, it would be you. You’re the most brilliant mind in the underground and capable of building things most would only consider dreams. Take the Core for instance. As much as I would dearly love to tell you you have a choice, you don’t. I need this done, the underground needs this done and there is only so much time you have before the child’s body begins to decay and their soul along with it.”

Dings paced the flower littered throne room with his arms crossed crossly against his chest, brow-bones furrowed in both frustration and exasperation. “I refuse! I just lost my wife, buried her dust in my backyard and if you continue on this path you’ll lose yours too!”

The tall and bulky goat monster rose from his chair to his full imposing height, trident gripped harsh in his hand. “You _will_ watch your tongue when speaking to your king. And you _will_ do as I command you or this position of yours will unfortunately become vacant for the near future. Do you understand me?”

He stopped pacing and shrunk under the looming figure that was his ruling body. There wasn’t much he could do to oppose Asgore, despite the man being an old friend. He was going off the deep end, Asgore was and it didn’t take many people around him to see that. Unfortunately if one were to say anything about it or work against him it would likely bring about banishment, imprisonment or death if the infraction felt severe enough. Dings folded his hands curtly in front of him, resting them around the hem of his slacks. The things he desperately wanted to say in protest of this caught in his skull, dying without so much as a movement of his jaw to speak. After a second or two of silence Dings replied “Yes your majesty” and walked out, skull downturned as the yellow blossoms crunched under his work boots. His long strides carried him swiftly out of the throne room and the moment he was out of view he teleported to his lab in a flutter of his lab-coat.

 

            It didn’t take long for the royal scientist to turn on a dim desk light and grabbed the half empty whisky bottle from his shelf. He shakily poured himself a succession of four shots and downed them with only minimal coughing and searing of his magical esophagus. Dings left the bottle open as he pulled toward him a large sheet of graph paper and mechanical pencil. He wouldn’t be going home tonight and would have to call someone to have them take care of his kids while he worked. It was the fourth time this week but they’d understand right? Sans would, Papyrus...The skeleton shook his head and poured himself one more shot before getting to work. If he had to do this for his king, he’d get it done to the best of his abilities and spare no expense.


	2. Theoretical Love Equasions

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gaster has a lot of post grad work to do but the little ray of sunshine he wants to woo is at a party for an engagement. Cue awkward dancing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have moved this from its own story to this one so I can keep all my small Gaster related stories together and organized. 
> 
> Astoria is my personal skele-OC who in anything to do with Sans and Papyrus' parentage is Gaster's wife and mother to the two of them. I don't unfortunately have a picture of her drawn out but one day soon maybe!

It was, well, it was a night at least. He was 25 fresh back into school for his full doctorate and there was a party being thrown at the palace for Asgore’s engagement to Toriel. Well, he almost didn’t want to go what with homework and the ever growing pile of unanswered hypothesis’ he needed to run by the royal scientist before he got to working on any of them. Dings didn’t quite know if he should go or not but there was someone who was that caught his fancy. Her name was Astoria, he knew her from college and she was the underground’s second only human cultural anthropologist and the most beautiful girl he’d ever laid his sockets on. Of course someone like her would never really go for the bumbling intelligent nerd who never knew how to do much of anything other than things that related to the lab or writing reports. Social skills were about as foreign to him as a lot of the human culture was. Thankfully Astoria knew both and he could probably get away with acting like the weird self he was and have her pick up the slack.

 

She was the kind of woman who lit up a room, magical hair falling around her skull in soft waves of a nearly clear silken yellow hue and expressive sockets that glowed in a bright inquisitive yellow shade that reminded Dings of the color of sunlight hitting the plaster walls of his dorm room just as the- who was he kidding though. Sunlight never really filtered through his dorm room windows in the morning, the school just sort of raised the blackout curtains on the place and allowed the artificial lighting to stream through. How was he ever going to woo her? She was the sun he dreamed of seeing, the light he always felt was warm and nearly blinding; Astoria could laugh as if everything was both funny and the other person meant the world to her and back again. Thankfully he had a clean lab coat and a nice set of slacks he could wear and a nice dress shirt in a stingy gray , of course his own purple hued magic contrasted in his properly working socket nicely enough to make his ensemble work, or at least that’s what he told himself as he got dressed. The dress shoes on the other hand were a forgotten idea as he donned a pair of lab safe work boots as per his usual attire and quickly hopped forward, teleporting to the castle for a woman worth partying for.

Of course he stood in the corner awkwardly a lot of the time considering a lot of the guests came up to Asgore and Toriel congratulating them and toasting their future together. Some gave them best wishes for the future and hoped they’d be able to free the underground someday, well, Dings knew that wasn’t going to happen in their lifetime probably, or at least that’s what he thought in the dark recesses of his overly nervous mind when felt overwhelmed by the amount of calculations needed to calibrate the damn machines his mentor had him toiling over for extra-credit assignments. Dings occasionally dragged the tip of one of his phalanges over the rim of the solidly formed glass cup filled with a sort of golden alcohol, tasted faintly of the tea Asgore adored and he was certain Toriel planned that out and had the flame beings brew up a special batch of booze just for this party alone, not that Dings minded it was actually quite delicious and wasn’t too strong either. He scanned the dance floor full of party goers shaking their various rear-ends and moving to the rather infectiously joyful music playing over a set of speakers that someone, probably his boss or maybe Asgore himself (despite his lack of technical skills) rigged up. A smile spread across his skull, it was small and almost not noticeable but never the less the wall-flower of a skeleton’s mood lightened a little and he started navigating the corners and comforting walls keeping look out to see if his illusive Astoria would be anywhere to be found.

 

Seems to Dings that everyone wanted to talk to her as well, Astoria had a gaggle of other monsters around her as she told a rather engaging story of a book she found and regaled her captive audience with one of its more dramatic tales of princesses and swords and he couldn’t help but feel a pitter patter of feeling scattering across his soul beating hard below his ribs. Science wasn’t this hard, numbers and figures and running tests and machines, they weren’t hard but trying to find a way to talk to someone as bright and cheerful as the woman he’s had an eye on for a while? He felt like a young awkward skeleton trying to woo his first crush into going to a school dance or something. Then the crowd left and his target, er Astoria was blissfully alone in the wash of people almost awkwardly sipping on the same drink he was. Now was his chance, it was either he walked over now or he never would and lose all hope of ever even introducing himself. Then the song changed, it was one of those ones people flocked to the floor and danced as a group whether it be a group dance or just a mass of bodies all pulsing together in excitement. Dings took a deep breath, stood stock straight up and started dancing towards Astoria.

Dings couldn’t dance, that much was certain as he awkwardly tried shuffling his hips around and hopping a bit on his two feet much like a new born bird trying to walk around for the first time. It was however on the beat of the song however strange and not really dance like it was. Astoria looked over at him, it was one of the hardest things to see and it made Dings’ face flush the color of a his pupil, deep purple. The look on her face was both amusement, a shining smile and confusion wrapped up in one sort of blushy look from her that lit the room around them in a bubble of odd that made everything else disappear.  
“...Hi.” Was about all the science nerd could say in terms of anything. He kept his terrible dance show up instead of talking as the lovely skeleton in front of him held her hand up to keep him from talking, not that you could hear much anyway. She laughed out a rather hearty but light airy sound and wrote down a few things on a piece of paper, it was her number and a message that said she needed to go but call her. Then she leaned forward and tucked it into his lab coat’s pen pocket and smiled at him, shouting nearly in the spot where his ears would be if he had any.  
“I’ve been wondering when you’d come talk to me Dings. Don’t be shy, call me for coffee sometime!”

Astoria had a little bit of a lisp to her voice, slightly there as she probably had to learn not to use it growing up and never quite fully stopped the habit. Although Dings thought it was adorable as hell and it made him crush on the skeleton even more, he didn’t have time to even say a goodbye or tell her she was cute (not that he would yet) before she seemed to float off like some form of sunny goddess trapped in a bubble of dim party. Dings seemed to stand there a bit speechless and he was almost certain he had his jaw hung open and he was staring at the space she previously occupied as if she were still there. Of course he’d call her, maybe not for a week or so because of the huge amount of work he had piled on but he’d definitely call her and if Asgore hadn’t come over to talk to him, one of his best friends, he’d have stayed in a stunned, happy sort of stupor the rest of the night. He shook his head at the clap on his back as he just about toppled over from the force behind the blocky fluffy heir to the throne but excitedly talked about the engagement as if he didn’t just see the loveliest woman in the underground walk away.


	3. I Never Knew

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gaster has had a lot of time to reflect what he's done while in the void. He writes, despite writing for an audience of one- himself.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Once again moving this from its stand alone fic to this one for organization. 
> 
> This is meant to be a bit of a free form poem-esque idea that my personal Gaster that I roll play would have written while being trapped in the void for his own form of penance for the shit he's done.

I never knew how much you needed me until I wasn't there.  
Science waits for no man and I can tell you now, I wasn't much of a man.  
Any lines in the sand, were eventually washed away and I prayed one day you wouldn't pay the price.

I never knew how much I needed you until I learned you were terrified of me.  
Fear in the eyes of a child is all it takes to break down those walls and I had built them so high.  
All the worries and lines etched onto my skull a reminder of my guilt and I pray one day you don't ask about them.

I never knew what price I had to pay until I paid it in full.  
When you lose everything, even yourself it doesn't really matter any more.  
Traces of everything I once had hurt me like a knife but I pushed forward expecting to find an answer.

I never knew the pain of being unmade until I forced death's hand.  
Losing my sanity was all it took for me to figure out this world was better off without me.  
You'd never remember and I'd just be a few scratching of words on a piece of paper for you to see.

I never knew the feeling of being forgotten until I no longer existed.  
Everything I was demoted to a whisp of a trace of a memory no longer firing in their synapses.  
It'd be ok though because the world will go on and I will never have the ability to hurt anyone again.

 

I never knew how much I loved you until you no longer loved me back.


	4. Of things lost

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dings is hardly seeing his children. Sans really hates his father abandoning him and Papyrus but work is more important when your whole life rides on the kings ultimatums.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a bit farther ahead in the future to chapter one.

            “how come you’re not home anymore?”

Dings looked at his child with a confused tilt of his left brow-bone upward.  “I’m not sure what you mean Sans.”

The small skeleton shook his skull and frowned, putting his pencil down on the sheet of paper he was scribbling on. “yes you do pops... you stay at your lab more than you do home. paps wakes up in the middle of the night and asks if you’re coming home or not. i can’t keep telling him no...makes him all sad and then i get all sad...you gotta stick up to the king or something! he’s making you stay away from us... i miss you. papyrus misses you.” Sans almost started yelling, he was sad and frustrated and just wanted to spend some time with his father.

He didn’t quite know how to answer, yes of course he wasn’t spending a lot of time at home but with the work he had to do it was almost impossible for him _to_ stay home or be home at all. Dings sighed heavily and walked over to the table where Sans sat, mug of strong coffee in his phalanges. “Sans, you know as well I as I do I cannot just tell the king no. I’ve tried and all that got me was a threat to my job and I need to make sure you and Papyrus are provided for. It’s sad for me just as much as it is for the two of you. I miss you both fiercely and I sincerely wish I didn’t have to work on this project so I can spend more time with you-“

“no you don’t!” Sans cut his father off. “if you wanted to stay around us you’d bring work home like i seen you do before! you just don’t wanna be home because it reminds you of mom...”

“That’s enough Sans!” He yelled, sharply enough that Sans backed up a little, shrinking in his chair slightly and he shut himself up, sockets down-turning. Dings stopped himself and looked away. “I’m sorry, yes being home reminds me of your mother but that doesn’t in any way shape or form make me not want to see my children. I love you both very much and try my best to be here for the both of you.” Sans huffed and crossed his arms over his chest in a very childlike anger. If he had lips he’d be pouting. Dings got up from his chair and walked over to his son, kneeling in front of him so they were about eye level. He pulled his child over to him and wrapped his long arms around him, resting his skull on top of Sans’. Sans muttered a few things under his breath and clung to his dad tightly, sobs catching in his non-existent throat. Dings rubbed circles in Sans’ back for reassurance, he hummed something, nonsense tunes that were a little off tune but were familiar and comforting. Sans cried in a very ugly and depressed manner, clinging as if is life depended on it, as if he’d drown in a sea of sorrow if he ever let go.

            He wasn’t sure how to remedy this, at all. On one hand he had to work or he’d be killed or worse he and his children would wind up in the streets without a G to their name. On the other side, he needed the distraction, something to eat away at his time and help him forget about his dead wife. She was gone and his life was in shambles. Dings felt conflicted, sad and angry. Sad that she was gone, sad that his children hardly saw him, sad that he couldn’t help them grieve and sad that he couldn’t bring her back...he was angry because he couldn’t bring her back, that he couldn’t help his children and angry he couldn’t cure her. Astoria got sick, she became weak and fragile after having her second child and there wasn’t anything he could do to fix it. And his majesty Asgore wanted more out of him than he could give and yet he did it. He poured himself into working to forget his short-comings and his loss. He didn’t want to feel it so he forgot and turned to things to help him forget, magic addling his brain at times, alcohol dimming his feelings for a while...work to keep his emotions distracted and time away from the place where everything felt worse. Dings couldn’t even bare to see his children most nights and yet. Sans was taking this harder than Papyrus at the moment and there wasn’t anything he could do about it except make excuses and try to make things better on occasion.

            He pressed a kiss onto his son’s skull and swallowed overwhelming feelings threatening to swallow him whole. “I have to leave soon...Grillby will be over later to check on the two of you. I expect you’ll have given Papyrus his bath and helped him with his writing. Ok?” Dings didn’t move his teeth from the top of Sans’ skull as he talked, murmuring the words to him with just enough volume for Sans to hear. Sans forcefully detached himself from his father with a frown and went back to his paper.

“yeah...whatever...” His voice sounded rough and terse with his sockets blank and skull pointed towards the table. Dings went to say something but the words caught in his throat, if he kept this up he’d alienate his children beyond measure and he didn’t want that. He swallowed thickly and planted one more clanking kiss to the top of his son’s skull before walking off to get ready. He felt the walls around his soul thicken just a little more as he donned his lab coat yet again. Things weren’t going to be the same ever again.


	5. Cohesion

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The good ole Doctor is getting older and his time in the void made his body turn to goo. Magic is his solution but some days there isn't much he can do to fix himself.

            He had been out of the void for so long. He counts, every day, a line ticked into a small black notebook he keeps by his bed side. An ornate silver locking mechanism rounded over the book keeping it closed, opening only to his magic. Dings woke with bleary sockets and went to pass his right hand over the journal but he couldn’t. A sudden bead of panic jumped to his non-existent throat and he scrubbed at his sockets, except he couldn’t. The skeleton looked around at his body, at the sheets covering it and screamed in a guttural manner. The sheets were stained with a black oily substance, the purple fabric ruined. A faint smell of burn came from them and Dings knew what was happening; he shook.

 _“I’m...becoming incohesive. I...”_  He spoke in a very burbled wing-dings, the sounds coming out wet and goopy. With a pull of his magic he drew his hands up to his slightly melting skull and pressed it into his hands. Dings strained as much as he could with his magic, attempting to get some form of cohesion on his body back, it wasn’t all gone into a pile of black viscous goo yet but it was close enough that he couldn’t distinguish himself from a mass of yuck from about the bottom of his ribs and down. He hadn’t felt this scared in quite a long time, he’s never had to worry about his magic failing him like this, he knew he was getting old but...Dings gave another pull on his magic and managed to shape his lower half back into some semblance of normal bones and got himself to sit up and move the covers off of him.  It was hard to pull himself back together. He couldn’t quite get the sputtering form of his to solidify into something solid and he felt as if he were back in the form he was in the limbo state of the void where the child could see him in a slightly shapeless mass behind the door in Waterfall.

            Dings managed after ten minutes of mentally freaking out and straining himself so hard he would have ripped a muscle if he had any getting his body to a form he could stand on. Once he managed that, he scooted to the edge of his bed and reached over to his side-table for his glasses. He looked in sheer disappointment at himself as a wet piece of himself sloughed off in a glob of void goo to the floor. It splashed on the wooden surface and globbed up in a black slimy mess. The skeleton took in a shaky, wet breath and tried not to break down into a sobbing mess. He hated this, all of this goop shit. He’s tried so hard to fix everything that he broke but this? It reminded him of all the things he couldn’t fix like himself. It reminded him of the shit that he did, the pain, the abandonment. Dings managed to put his glasses on and solidified his body even more. Now, he resembled a bit more of the goopster he was often called before he came back from the void, except he looked more like himself and less like a blob. As he shuffled himself over to restroom, bits of him dripped in viscous drops on the floor. To him, this was as bad as an adult human waking up and finding that he defecated in his bed overnight.

            He didn’t dare look in the mirror, he was afraid of what he’d see- not that he wasn’t already familiar with how his face looked all melted and goopy; he just didn’t want to look at the state of himself. He felt horrible, inside and out and his mental state wasn’t any better. Turning the water on was a bit of a problem, the slipperiness of his hand and the smooth surface of the plastic hot water cap made for some issues; part of his hand sloughed off into the sink and washed down the drain the moment he got it running. Dings managed to fill a cup and splash the water over his droopy skull, it didn’t drip all off but rather sink in slightly and make his goo a little waterier. Some of his skull dripped into the sink and Dings sunk to the floor in front of the sink with a plop. He splayed his hands over his skull and sobbed in an ugly manner, curling as tight into himself as he could. In all his time outside the void, he never thought he’d have to worry about this problem again, not like this. He felt horrible and with no one to help him, he’d resigned himself to stay in his bathroom the rest of the day.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one came to me as a quick idea: Dings is upset that his magic failed him and he woke up as a pile of goo in his bed.


	6. Disquiet

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Warning- this piece contains depression, drinking, vague mentions of abuse and suicide. If you are sensitive to any of the aforementioned subjects please don't read.
> 
> This is a piece I've been meaning to write for a while. It is in a first person perspective from Dings who becomes abusive and alcoholic after the death of his wife Astoria. Depression eventually sets in and you can figure out what happens from there.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Title for this piece was borrowed from the name of this song, http://incompetech.com/music/royalty-free/index.html?isrc=USUAN1500036&Search=Search which I highly suggest you listen to while reading this piece since it was the spark that inspired me to start writing this.

            _I sat there with my skull in my phalanges. No pretenses, no anything but the feelings of regret and the taste of alcohol on my tongue. I looked at the strewn set of papers on the floor and wondered where I went wrong, wondered what went through my head to suddenly turn into the kind of monster I hated... The tiles below me were cold and uninviting, barely supporting me and my terrible habits, my horrendous deeds and yet they caught me as I fell from my chair, unknowing that I even hit the floor until my vision blanked for a mere few moments. My skull bounced off the unforgiving surface and my glasses scattered to the corner of the room. The tips of my fingers scraped in a harsh tone across the ceramic as I went to pick myself up. Shakily, I stared at the ground, my arms barely even able to support the small weight of my frame as the strong feeling of fuzz from the inebriating drink coursed through my marrow like fish in a crowded stream. I barely managed to stand back up and tilt my way over to the corner of the room._

_None too carefully, I shoved my glasses back onto my skull and shuffled in scraping steps back to my chair which I heavily fell back into as if the weight of everything pushed me down into its confines. I didn’t know what to do any more. Helplessly I stared at the singular picture frame sitting on my desk. It was mocking me, the figures staring at me, standing beside me with grins and happy expressions jeering at me. My dim purple pupil stared at them, unable to look away at the memory captured to shimmery paper almost as if hypnotized. It was Sans yelling at me, telling me to stop. He was the one always trying to get me to quit and take care of the two of them, the voice of reason that I should have listened to...Papyrus he...he was the one who lost his faith in me but tried for the sake of the two of them to believe I could be a good person again. I smiled then, I looked happy and so did they. Now?_

_With a disgusted grunt I tipped the frame over, smashing it with my fist. The glass slipped against my bones and cut lines in the weathered surface. Marrow stained in a red beaded along the wounds but I didn’t care, I didn’t care one bit nor did I feel the pain of the cuts marring my phalanges. I didn’t care anymore, I stopped caring a long time ago and they had to pay the price. An ice-cube, melting in my tumbler of whisky shifted and clinked against the others drawing my attention from my thoughts to the mind numbing drink and I downed the rest of the amber liquid. I tilted my skull back and let the searing feeling of alcohol on my dulled purple tongue disappear almost as soon as I felt it._

_I almost cracked another smile. My life was in shambles, I had nothing any more. The only two things that mattered to me I broke. Papyrus a mere shell of his former self and Sans a hollow broken toy with a blank socket and barely enough batteries to run on a good day. And look at me! I’m no better, a monster detached from the world and so dependent on alcohol it makes me sick to think about it and yet without thought I poured another glass to drown myself in. There was only one way out of this...no future for me here anymore, nothing down here that I can grasp to pull myself out of this damned hole I dug for myself with my own hands. I took another long drink from my chilled glass and flung the rest of it against the wall. It exploded in an array of glass and liquid and with the sudden burst of noise I broke down, angry sobs choking the breath from my non-existent lungs._

_Once again I held my skull in my phalanges while my chest heaved and I struggled to gather unneeded air. If I weren’t already numb, I would have felt the trail of translucent purple liquid staining my skull and dripping to my lap. Viciously I scraped at my skull and tried to stop crying, I felt weak and I didn’t want to be weak. I was strong, I was the royal scientist, I was a father and a husband...I was... I was.- I let out an anguished noise and stood up from my chair again, wobbling heavily as I leaned against the rolling object. There was only one way I could solve everyone’s problems, and mine. My knees almost gave out under me as I took a step forward, my body glitching out around me as I stepped into the folds of space time, teleporting from my office to a place I could make it all right again._

_The gaping maw of glowing heat and molten rock stared at me in an unforgiving manner, harsh as the sun and accepting to anything that might happen to stumble into it. Blearily, I stared into the magma undulating and boiling under me. I stood on a precarious ledge that not a soul knew existed save myself and maybe a handful of others that built the glorious machine known as the Core. All I had to do was jump in, let my body melt and my soul break and everything would turn out alright. I would cease to exist, my atrocities wouldn’t be forgiven but at least no one had to suffer again. I wouldn’t have to hurt anyone again. I just had to jump in. Somewhere in time I shed my lab coat without knowing I had done so and watched the white fabric flare up into a shower of flames and sparks before disappearing into ash. Some-when-else my glasses followed and I stared with fuzzy vision ahead with an unfocused gaze._

_It would either be now, or never. They’d understand, my coworkers, their majesties, my sons... Sans would more than likely be happy I wasn’t around to hurt Papyrus anymore and Papyrus? He’d be sad for a while until Sans convinced him how horrible I was. I inhaled a shaky breath, the heat coming from the immense amount of molten rock searing my non-existent insides. I exhaled it slowly and took a shaky step forward again, and again, and again until I hit nothing but air and my body tilted off balance._

_I fell._

_The ground ceased to exist and I fell, slowly at first it felt until the unbearable heat engulfed me in searing pain I didn’t feel. The heat seared my bones, burned me alive. I felt parts of me flake into oblivion as I floated amongst the very substance killing me. No- I died a long time ago..._

_My vision fell dark, darker yet dark- the darkness clouding my vision and my mind growing, encompassing me and my consciousness. The shadows cutting deeper, stretching their blades into my soul, prying and breaking and slicing and shattering..._

_This, last experiment... it seems..._

_Very..._

_very.._

_interesting._

_._

_._

_._

_Don’t you two think so?_


	7. Food

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Anger. Work. And two little hungry skeletons.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This isn't long nor does it have a lot of Dings in it. It still goes here as part of his story though. It takes place in the interim period after his wife dies but before the time he kills himself.

            _“Fuck- fuck you... I know how to raise my own children! I...I don’t need any of your- your patronizing comments you... you hot headed bastard!”_

“pops, are you drunk again?”

A blurry socketed skeleton looked over from the door he just slammed in Grillby’s face, frown settling on his skull. _“N-no...Get back to your homework.”_

“pops i-“

_“I said get back to your damn homework! I have a lot- a lot of work to do for his royal goat...and- and if I get bothered, you’re not going to like the consequences under-..understood?”_

Sans swallowed the rising lump of fear and loathing that rose like bile in his non-existent throat. He looked back down at his already completed schoolwork and crumpled his phalanges tightly into fists, teats brimming at the corners of his sockets.

“DID I HEAR FATHER COME IN THE DOOR?” Papyrus asked from the couch, short legs bumping a-rhythmically against the back. Once Dings had descended the basement stairs with heavy feet Sans looked over at his brother.

“yea, that was him...”

“DID HE BRING ANYTHING HOME FOR SUPPER?”

His fists shook. “no...”

“...OH.” The younger skeleton’s face fell as he quietly looked to his lap, gloved hands clasped together tightly as if he had to hold himself together. Soft sniffles and sounds of crying breaths came from Papyrus, orange stained tears falling onto his lap. He tried so hard to keep quiet but Sans knew anyway and walked over, careful to keep Papyrus from seeing how angry he was. Sans gathered his younger brother up into his arms while he kneeled on the ground, tightly clinging to crying skeleton. “BUT I’M HUNGRY... *sniff* AND...”

“i know...”Sans sighed heavily. “i know...i think we got some noodles left. you want me to make ya some?”

“OH... I...WHAT ABOUT YOU BROTHER? WHAT ARE YOU GOING TO EAT?” Papyrus still had tears leaking from his sockets but he had a frown on his face while looking up expectantly at his older sibling.

“i’ll figure something out paps. don’t worry, i won’t go hungry.” He pressed his teeth against the top of his brother’s head making sure Papyrus believed his lie. Papyrus’d eat today, he could eat tomorrow maybe.


	8. Drinks.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Warning, this contains abuse. If you are sensitive to this material please do not read this chapter. Thanks!
> 
> Dings isn't having a good time and neither are his kids. He can't cope and it's starting to bleed into how he's taking care of his children.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning (again), this contains abuse. If you are sensitive to this material please do not read this chapter. Thanks!
> 
> This takes place roughly in the time frame of Food, either before or after it in some time. This is of course before he commits suicide and after his wife dies.

            The lab was a drone of noise. Machines whirring and pumping and doing whatever it is they did with hisses from hoses and other things. Dings groggily walked up the stairs to the kitchen where he rummaged through the fridge for food. There was a few things left to eat for dinner, not much and certainly not enough to last anywhere near till the end of the week when he could go shopping. He inwardly groaned and scrubbed a mildly shaky hand over his skull, closing the fridge with a summoned hand. Sans and Papyrus were upstairs playing in their shared room or something thankfully and it left Dings able to pour a glass of Bourbon without either of them asking him about it. The tumbler was nearly full when he dropped a cold stone in the liquid amber. With a deep sigh he took a long sip of the dulling liquid and leaned against the kitchen counter. The house needed cleaning, the kitchen was a pit and he needed to go food shopping but he couldn’t be asked to do any of that. He could get Sans and Papyrus to do the cleaning and send Sans out to go shopping. The amount of work he still had to get done by the end of the week was staggering and if he didn’t meet his deadline Asgore- no, he’d be angry with himself.

            Sounds of metatarsals hitting the wood of their stairs echoed into his head. He looked over to see the two of them nearly bounding down the stairs with little figures in their hands. They were Papyrus’ action figures, a tall robot looking thing and some random swordsman covered in full plate armour. Dings remembered finding them in the dump the one day he visited it with-. He violently shook his head to clear his thoughts and drank more of his alcohol with a scowl and a disgruntled noise. Sans stopped playing for a second and looked at his father, almost perfect replica scowl on his face to match Dings’.

“are you drinking _again_?”

Dings’ frown deepened and he put his glass down harder than intended, the sound was jarring in the quiet of the downstairs. _“What’s it to you if I do? I’m an adult and I can do what I want without my child trying to reprimand me.”_

“you know what happens when you do that...”

He walked over to his son with a blank yet foreboding expression on his skull. _“I will not tolerate my child telling me what I can and cannot do with my life.”_

Papyrus had walked over in the meantime, sticking close to Sans’ back and peaked around his wider frame. “BUT FATHER... LAST TIME YOU DID THIS YOU... YOU HURT SANS.” There was a small, sad expression on the young one’s skull. Dings sighed heavily in an exasperated manner.

“pap be quiet.” Sans muttered to his brother, a gentle warning. Dings caught on and rose a brow-bone at his oldest.

_“Is there something you’d like to say Sans? If so speak up now.”_

“no...” He grit his teeth, brow-bones furrowed.

 _“Then keep your damn mouth quiet. Both of you get the hell back upstairs and leave me in peace.”_  Dings’ voice albeit quiet had a low violent undertone. _“If either of you try and tell me what to do again I’ll make sure you both know not to talk to me like that again.”_

Papyrus had shrunk back down behind Sans again, tightly clinging to the back of the skeleton’s shirt.

             Sans’ fists shook, he raised his left hand and summoned a bone up from the floor in an attempt to hit his father under his chin. Dings grabbed hold of the magical construct with his hand and crushed it with ease, grabbing hold of Sans with the other hand, yanking him forward. He slapped Sans across the skull hard enough to send his head jerking to the side. Papyrus gasped.

 _“I will **not** tolerate this kind of disobedience in my household!” _  Dings flicked one of his fingers on his left hand easily picking Sans and Papyrus up by the soul. _“If either of you decides to do anything like this, you both get punished. Both of you are going to your room and you **won’t** be let out until tomorrow.” _  

            Sans couldn’t say anything, his sockets were blank and he looked as defeated as a limp noodle. His skull stung and he felt the vice grip on his soul choke any attempt at retaliation out of him for the moment. Papyrus meanwhile just looked terrified, utterly terrified and had tears gathering at the edges of his sockets. Dings marched the two of them upstairs, none so carefully dragging his two children behind him by their souls. He muttered to himself the whole way up angrily, tossing the two in their room without care as to what they hit. The door was locked a second later with Sans running up to it, pounding on it a few times. A few moments ticked by before Dings walked off back downstairs, finally hearing Sans defeated last pound and his bones hitting the floor. Dings heard Papyrus’ soft hiccupping cries from the kitchen as he picked up his drink, downing it in one go. He’d need much more than just this if he were going to survive the rest of this night he thought.


	9. Limbs

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dings started on determination experiments and ways of healing people. Unfortunately it didn't go as planned.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is part of a goretober prompt for my deviantart and considering its part of my Dings fics I'm uploading it here too. The prompt was Extra Body Parts.

            He paced up and down along the corridor outside the room, work boots thunking in hard even steps along the tile flooring. _‘How could this have happened?’_  He thought with brow-bones furrowing in frustration, confusion and anxiety. Dings had his hands tightly clutching his hip-bones through his gray slacks and sleeves on his white lab coat rolled up past his elbows. His appearance was disheveled and frazzled, this was most certainly not his first overnight in the lab in a row. If he had physical lips he’d have kept them pursed. Now and then he grunted in thought while his feet wore down a path as he kept pacing.

_‘No no no! This was all wrong!’_

            The scientist scrubbed a hand over his face under his glasses and stopped pacing momentarily until the irritation started back up again resuming his relentless pounding on the floor. His patients, _‘Patient..’_ he reminded himself, had fused. It was only a test on a new machine intended to heal, not scramble body parts together into some amassment of horror. Dings about roared. How was he supposed to fix this? The machine didn’t work backwards, it wasn’t designed to even move forwards. All it did was use the user’s magic to boost the healing process and regenerate cells. Except with two patients hooked up somehow the magic scrambled their souls together and subsequently their bodies as well.

            One of his assistants came jogging up the corridor with a clipboard clutched tightly in his hands, it was a cat with perky ears, fur the color of a late and nervous expression on his face. “H-hello sir, I’ve come to check on the patients as you instructed and-“

Dings held his hand up to silence the other.

“S-sir?” The feline swallowed, his tail swishing out behind him. He walked to the glass window looking inside the lab room and gasped in horror, his clipboard clattering to the ground. He immediately rushed inside the room and looked at the amalgamation of beings tied down to one of the beds attached to the room. Dings stood in the doorway, staring ahead with a blank expression on his skull.

            The creature writhing on the bed looked alien, absolutely foreign to the natural biology of a bird and a dog. It had the dog’s body but a feathery tail sticking out from its left side. Three ‘arms’ jutted out from the torso, two on the right side and one on the left, one of them being devoid of fur and patched with grotesque misshapen feathers. Its face was a mash of a canine skull with partial skin and feathering on one side with patches of matted fur and mottled skin on the other. Half a beak jutted out from where you’d expect a lower jaw to be and there was nothing more than a chunk of skin jutting out from one side where you’d expect an ear to be.

            Ding’s assistant had a paw clamped over his maw and he visibly looked to be shaking. Of course anyone but him it seemed would be horrified at the scene in front of them, the beast didn’t even have a body shape that could be recognized. He crossed his arms tightly over his chest and scratched a phalange over his radius with irritation. This was all his fault, if he had made the right calculations and tested it with only one subject but instead got this grotesque merging of bodies. The only sounds in the room outside of the irregular beeping of the vitals monitor were that of the thrashing of the creature and the horrified hyperventilation of his assistant. He sighed in an exasperated manner and walked to the feline assistant of his, grasped their shoulders and turned them around to look at him.

_“You are to tell no one of this. What you are to write in your report on the experiment is that they died from over exposure to magic. Their souls burst and we lost both of them. Their dust has been taken care of; have someone write letters home to the families and alert them that the dust was irretrievable.”_

With wide eyes and a quick nod, the feline agreed, quickly scrambling away from Ding’s grasp to grab his clipboard. He immediately began scribbling instructions in a fast manner on the medical report and took off sprinting down the hall leaving Dings to look at the monstrosity he created. He took out a small notebook in black from his lab coat pocket and summoned a pair of ghost like magical hands in a clear but vibrant purple, proceeding to start writing on a clean page.

_Day 15, Tuesday_

_I conducted the experiments with the regeneration machine. The extremely small dosages of DT used in the preliminary proceedings failed to produce the outcome I had expected. Subject number one, a bird monster from Hotland, initially took to the treatment well until the addition of magic from myself. It sparked a chain reaction within their magic-cellular structure originating from their soul that caused their body to de-form into what could only be described as a melted form. The soul reached out to the closest magical signature in the room for stability. Subject two, a dog monster from Snowdin was the closest one it could reach and the deteriorating soul latched onto it, melding the two beings into one. What resulted was a half formed mash of bird and dog with too many limbs and a grotesque forming of skin and protective coating. There seems to be an abundance of fur and feathers plastered over a misshapen bloated body akin to dipping an object in glue and then a smattering of organic material. It began to thrash around quite quickly and destroyed part of the machine with a strange amount of strength. I have it secured to the table and will be terminating the experiment. For my next subject I will only have it in the room and I will lower the dosage of magic._

            Dings quickly pocketed the black notebook and pen and quickly flicked his left hand upwards towards the ceiling. A large, closely bundled grouping of jagged ended bones shot up from the ground and pierced through the bed up into the monstrosity tied to it. It ceased its movements a moment later and Dings watched as it shattered into dust billowing out from his bones. He would have to make more adjustments the next time he tested his machine.


	10. The Queen

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Queen is going to leave. She doesn't want to be around Asgore any more, Dings doesn't want to lose his best friend.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ive had an idea for this swimming around in my head for months, just never got around to writing it before now.

Dings paced along his kitchen floor, left hand gripping his chin while the other arm wrapped around his middle. The queen of the underground stood a little ways away from him with her hands folded neatly in front of her resting on her dress. She had a sad expression on her face.   
“Your majesty... I don’t have a clear answer for you.”   
She sighed and looked at her long-time friend. “I would only ask for an opinion. Nothing more, nothing less.”  
He let go of his chin and shook his skull. “Yes but.. leaving your position as queen? Your beloved people would miss you and frankly so would I.” He spoke almost as if he’d already lost her. Toriel walked over to him, looking him straight in the sockets with a look of near anguish and grasped his phalanges in her larger paws.  
“I know but I cannot stand to see my husband turning down that dark path any longer... It is a place I cannot walk towards.” Her brows furrowed for a moment. “He is turning into the kind of monster I no longer love Dings...”   
The skeleton nodded solemnly turning his gaze down towards their feet. He stared hard at the gray tile under them trying hard not to get emotional; he swallowed thickly. “Do you even have anywhere to go? Your home has always been in the palace, and before that there was the surface when we were children...”   
“I have my ways; there’s somewhere I can go. I would be leaving everyone but I feel it is the right thing to do for myself. Please do understand.” Once again Dings nodded while Tori spoke. He pulled his phalanges away from her grasp and looked away from them. You could see his mind working for a couple of moments, quick thoughts and ultimately he accepted what she wanted. Dings turned around and kneeled before her, bowing low with his head hung low.   
“Toriel Dreemur, my Queen, Queen of our peoples and my dearest friend... I pledge myself to you that in any time or place I will come to your aid.” Toriel blinked tears from her eyes and lifted Ding’s skull up so he’d look at her.   
“This I hear and shall never forget not only as my loyal subject but as my closest and longest friend.” She took his phalanges again and pulled him up into a tight hug. He pressed himself to her for a moment before she let go. “I will leave tonight, I have my most essential things packed in a dimensional pocket. Please forgive me but I must go, I am needed before my departure.”   
“Then go. I will be here.” Dings returned, speaking with a shake to his voice. Toriel squeezed his phalanges in her grasp before turning to leave; he didn’t walk her out.

  
It had been a few days, he dropped his children off with the flame monster again and sat wallowing in a depression that he numbed with alcohol. He didn’t hardly move from his position in his easy chair in the living room except maybe to get a new bottle and he left the TV on as a droning background noise. It wasn’t until he heard a familiar goat monster’s voice that he broke from his stupor.   
_“Citizens of the underground... It is with a heavy heart that I regret to inform you our lovely queen, my beloved wife Toriel has disappeared.”_  
Tears stung at the corner of his socket and he frowned at the looming figure of the king plastered on his screen. Dings squeezed the arms of his armchair tightly.  
 _“Search parties have been scouring our lands in search of her but we have not been able to locate her. If anyone has any information to her whereabouts-“_ Asgore’s voice cracked _“please, please contact the royal guard and...”_ Dings turned the TV off with a sickening feeling. A trail of purple ran down his cheek-bones; he dropped his skull to his hands and choked back a few ugly sobs.


	11. It's science if you write it down.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dings had started determination experiments on Sans after Sans refused to let Papyrus get hurt in these crazy things. Unfortunately it wasn't long before Sans couldn't take any more. But, it's science if you make sure to record your findings correct?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a late goretober submission. My lack of motivation and stress from work really put a damper on me getting this finished.

            His son lay on the table in front of him.

 _“it hurts.”_ He cried.

He didn’t look down. Tears ran down Sans' skull, they were stained a rich, clear shade of teal and plopped onto the metal examination table. He had wires and electrodes planted in and on his small skull with an accompanying needle jutting out from his chest. All three were hooked up to a machine; it was bulky in size and made strange whirring and beeping noises. Dings adjusted a dial in a tiny increment. Two ghostly purple hands held a black notebook and pen, scribbling data and observations on the stark white pages. His son looked at him in fear, sockets wide and teeth tipped down in a frown.

 _“please no...i-i'll be good! p-pap and i'll stay up in our room! w-we'll be good! please!”_ Sans’ voice shook and wobbled with desperation. He tugged at the tight leather straps holding his wrists down.

            Dings adjusted another dial scribbling out a few calculations on his page in the meantime. He reached over to his son and drew the needle out from between his ribcage; a soul the color of watery blood materialised in front of his sternum. Sans wailed in pain, Dings had shoved the needle in a fraction deeper before taking hold of the soul in a grip of blue magic. It shimmered around the heart shaped object like a metallic flame with an accompanying glow.

 _“daddy please!”_ This cry was desperate, choked with every desire to have this stop. This was nothing more than abuse, experiment or not.

Dings kept telling himself: _'It's science if you write it down. It’s science if you write it down... It’s science if you-'_

His phalanges shook, he scrunched them into fists and summoned another pair of hands to help. They adjusted the last dial with a final click and he turned from the distraught expression twisting his son's skull.

            He flipped a switch, losing all care for what he was doing. A stream of bright red Determination flowed down the tube to the needle. The electrodes buzzed to life and shocked the socket they were attached to. A secondary set wormed Dings' magic in with the electricity. Together they stimulated a skeleton's ‘panic mode' causing them to immediately branch their magic out and keep their body together. Unfortunately, this leaves the soul permeable and the Determination to leak in.

            Sans screamed so high pitched and full of pain Dings flinched and stuffed his phalanges in his lab coat pockets to keep Sans from seeing him like this. The thin stream of the bright red material soaked into the soul that should be a plain grey/white; its red hue darkened and solidified into a mass of rectangular scales embedded into the usually squishy heart shaped object. Dings watched his son’s HP tick down, number by number until his cries turned into soft hiccupping sobs. His breathing dulled to shallow rise and fall of his chest and the lights in his sockets were winking out.

            This constant state of draining his son to extremely low HP and injecting his soul with Determination had started lowering the maximum amount of HP Sans had. The first session dipped it down five points, the second by ten…and now? Sans’ HP barely rose above 6 on a good day. Dings watched the computer monitor on his machine, keen purple pupils rapidly darting from one line to the next while his summoned hands continued scribbling down notes and information. The last drop of Determination plopped onto his soul, rippling across the smooth surface with a strong glow of magic. Dings watched the machine taking a few readings, scribbling all the while in his notebook. It wasn’t expected, the sudden beeping and drop on one of the dials. A frown slipped onto Ding’s skull as he went to the machine, adjusting a small knob here and there; it did little to help. Sans began screaming, his soul glitching and starting to melt. Panic coiled up in his marrow, Dings roughly yanked the needle from his son’s soul and tried removing the electrodes. No good. He recoiled as the system started to overload, creating a feedback loop and shocking him in the process.

            His son was going to die if he didn’t do something and fast. Dings braced himself for more pain as he roughly yanked the electrodes off from Sans’ socket, his own narrowed against the bright flash of light as the electricity arced onto various metal surfaces. As they ripped off part of the socket they were attached to cracked as the soul did. He immediately scooped Sans up into his arms and radiated out a strong purple aura of his magic, forcing Sans’ body to heal; the bones were deteriorating. He felt terrified, this wasn’t supposed to happen this way, it was just supposed to help or rather augment, not this... Dings had sunk to the floor with his son wrapped up in his arms; he shook and had his socket’s scrunched shut. Sans wailed in a garbled tone, his body barely holding together as the healing magic worked to counteract the apparent over-dosage of Determination. Behind them both the slew of machines keeping track of Sans beeped frantically from lack of stimuli, Dings didn’t hear them and drowned out the noise.

            A few minutes passed with the delicate balance of his son’s life in his hands, the scientist muttered things to himself, _‘please’_ and _‘this is my fault’_ and other prayers given up to non-existent gods. Eventually Sans’ body stabilized, his glitching form returning to ‘normal’ and his HP freezing at a singular one. Sans was unresponsive but alive, Dings heaved in his breaths, slumping against the cold metal of his machine. His earlier mantra- _'t's science if you write it down’_ tingled at the edges of his consciousness. With his magical hands he shakily scribbled in his notebook again.

_‘I will no longer continue this experiment. I am a failure.’_

He placed his son back on the table and with his non-existent insides churning, went to go find some alcohol.


	12. Pacing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Astoria is dying, she's losing her light and Dings is pacing outside of the procedure room she's in.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I can't help but give angst to my poor bab. Dings has been through enough but I can't stop writing angst with him, it's addicting-   
> Anyways this was written for a writing prompt/contest thing over on Deviantart.

Pacing, that back and forth movement of feet that took you from one end of a portion of the room to the other. It was the feeling of anxiety, the absolute need to move or else one would go insane. His phalanges shook; a tick that left him with them nervously shoved in his pockets. It had been a week or more, he’d lost count, but his wife was in the hospital, dying from who knows what at this point and she was undergoing another treatment. This would be the last one they’d try before deeming her a lost cause. Astoria didn’t even respond any more, her breathing was low and her soul barely had its former sunshine-y color.

Dings if you couldn’t tell was a mess. He looked dishevelled, coat askew off his shoulders, sweater wrinkled and bunched up around his middle half tucked in and half out of his trousers… he was even wearing a pair of slippers. But, he couldn’t stop moving. No amount of mental exercises quelled the incessant tick of time forward that he felt beat against him with each passing second. They wouldn’t let him in the procedure room to watch either, he had to wait outside and even that wasn’t enough. Agitation wove itself into his marrow.

 _Pivot, step, step, step, step, pivot. Step, step, step, pivot, step, step, pivot… wait._ He scrubbed his phalanges over his face for the billionth time tonight and roughly tapped against his humerus before resuming his anxious pound against the stone floor. The lights over-head burned into his pupil every time he decided to look up; harsh and as uninviting as most light here; fabricated, false. It paled in comparison to his little ball of sunshine losing her light in the other room. Dings growled and whirled around again, stalking nearly to the end of the hallway. He couldn’t stop shaking. Thankfully, his children were with Grillby; the flame monster was gods sent.

He felt his mentality starting to crumble, all the bad thoughts seeping in like water to a sponge and just sitting there, stirring the pot of his already fractured inner mind but stars above he didn’t know how he’d survive this if she… He couldn’t think about it, that would make it worse so with another pivot, he resumed his pacing just a little faster than before.


	13. Dust

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He buries her in his backyard.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Sociopath by: Lucas King](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=VagES3pxttQ) I highly suggest you listen to this. It was the inspiration for this chapter.

            He dug the hole himself. It wasn’t very deep or wide, but it had enough space to fit her inside… _No, her dust…_ The dirt felt soft between his phalanges, slightly damp but still firm enough he ached after his task. Dings kneeled on the ground, legs sitting on either side of his pelvis while he bent over the singular patch of ground. He shook, his whole body from the tips of his fingers to the tips of his toes, angry, depressed and cold. A steady stream of tears leaked from his one working socket, they were soundless, no sobbing, no catch in his breath, just a stream of purple leaking out of his socket and turning the dirt to mud. His children looked on from their upstairs bedroom, not knowing what their father was doing, they were confused and Dings was… he was a mess. The hole wore his phalanges raw and filled the gaps and joints in his hands with dirt. He scratched her name roughly onto a piece of wood with a bone he summoned and stuffed a rough muslin satchel dyed yellow into the hole. Dings roughly shoved the dirt back over it, staring at the uneven pile. He couldn’t… there wasn’t… He failed. Plain and simple; he failed. His tears slowly dried up, Dings felt a part of him soak into the ground around his dead wife’s dust, he knew he wasn’t ever going to be the same.


End file.
